Your Love Reaches Even Me
by KeepSaying
Summary: When Jane realizes once again that the team really had no love left for her, she doesn't think that anyone could ever love her. But then she meets this woman who's talking about a completely other kind of love and she starts listening.. and hoping once again. Maybe, if no one else did, God could still love her. One-Shot.


**A/N** : I don't think I've ever written anything this deep... Or controversial? I don't even know anymore at this point. Constructive criticism is appreciated. I guess. But be gentle. This kinda took me a while. I'm sensitive.

* * *

It was a perfectly normal day. As normal as any day at the FBI or – more specifically – the CIRG unit of the NYO could be. A normal day in their book included solving a tattoo that the most powerful terrorist organization of their time had tattooed on one of its key members before erasing her mind and dropping her of in Times Square to be found.

If it wasn't all that dramatic Jane would've laughed at what they were doing for a living. What the _team_ was doing for a living, not _her_. She was doing this to survive – it couldn't be called living.

They were gearing up to investigate an abandoned factory building, one of her tattoos had led them to. All of them were in the locker room, mostly quiet except for the usual banter. The banter she had been included in not too long ago but was now carefully excluded from. She wouldn't lie – at least not to herself – it hurt to be ignored completely. But in her experience it was still better than being noticed because people who ignored you usually didn't spit their venom at you – not verbally, that is.

It was so much easier to pretend that maybe one day things could go back to the way they used to be when she didn't have them tell her how much they hated and distrusted her. Worst of all – she couldn't even blame them. Oh, how she wished she could hate them as deeply as they hated her, how much easier her life would be. But no, her stupid heart simply wouldn't stop caring.

"Jane? You listening?"

She snapped back into reality at Zapata's annoyed questioning look. Jane nodded, pulling her FBI vest tight one last time before checking her gun again and putting it in its holster. She looked just like any regular FBI agent but the looks the Latina shot her told her that she was anything but.

"Don't pull that gun unless you absolutely have to" the other woman told her sternly, then moving forward catching up to Weller "I still don't like the fact that she's carrying a gun." Just like that. As if Jane wouldn't hear her.

She stared after the two of them until she felt Reade's gaze on her but when she returned it he quickly glanced away and followed his team members. She felt the bile rise to her throat and her stomach revolting at the thought of having to take another step. But she swallowed hard and took that step anyway, just like she always did.

They made it to the building without any further incidents, mostly because they were riding in two vehicles and Weller tended to just not talk to her at all, so they spent the ride there quiet. When they got out, without having to be told, Jane turned on her radio and moved to the side Weller was covering as well. That much had remained from her old life.

Of course nothing was ever as simple as it looked and so, about 3 minutes after they had entered the building – Zapata and Reade where checking the outside – they heard shots and quickly took cover.

Jane could see them, aiming at the explosives they had uncovered, and before any rational thought could make it into her brain, her body set off to jump in the way of the bullet, using a plate of metal she had grabbed midflight as her shield. At the impact she felt her body vibrate in the same rhythm as the metal and it grew hot beneath her fingers.

She barely took notice because as soon as she saw the look of surprise on the face of her attacker, she threw the plate away, jumping up and running towards the man. It didn't take much to put him on the floor with her bare hands. When he went down she already heard steps nearby, closing in on her – and Weller who was still taking cover behind a huge wooden box. He was screaming something at her but she couldn't hear him – not even over the comms.

Her blood rushing was the only thing she heard when she managed to take down the next attacker as well. She was in the middle of the hall now, looking around, about to look for something resembling cover, when she felt the impact.

Someone else must've set off another explosion, it was further away from Kurt but still managed to knock down about two thirds of the building. Including the part she was currently standing in apparently. She felt the weight of the chunks and boulders covering her and the dust that settled over her made it hard for her to breathe. She coughed, trying to grab anything close to her to push it away but her fingers lost grip on the stone fragments.

"JANE!" Now she heard Kurt's voice over her comm but she didn't have enough air in her lungs to respond, she simply kept coughing, hoping that would be enough of a sign of life that they would keep looking for her.

"Where is she?" she heard Reade call in over the radio, sounding out of breath, probably already running towards the building's entrance. He sounded almost genuinely concerned.

"Did she run off?" That was Zapata throwing a knife at her in full speed and then twisting it a little to make the wound count.

"Here" she managed to choke out into the comms and with a last ounce of strength she managed to kick away some of the wreckage covering her. Kurt came to help her with the last few bits, holding out his hand for her to take. She ignored it.

She ignored the hand and him and, when the other two had joined them, she ignored them too.

She knew now that the team literally had no love left for her. And why would they? How could anyone love her? Not, when out of all people, she was probably the one who despised herself the most.

* * *

She was on the streets of New York City, driving around aimlessly.

As soon as the team split up for the day, after one seemingly endless discussion about who attacked them that didn't lead anywhere, she had bolted for the door. With a quick detour to the locker room to grab her leather jacket, swearing when she hit her elbow that was already hurting along with all of her joints. She hadn't been cleared by medicals – she hadn't even seen medicals because why should she? It wasn't as if her life was worth anything at this point.

She had raced towards her car – thank god she didn't have to take the underground in her current state of mind – and once she had pressed down on the gas pedal she hadn't thought about stopping again any time soon. She wanted to get as far away from everything as possible. If possible she wanted to get away from herself but since she never had this much luck in her life she was content with leaving everything else behind.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she noticed she was driving straight through Manhattan but she didn't stop to think about where she was actually going. She didn't know this part of the town pretty well but she knew in about a mile she would reach the Hudson River that lead straight to New Jersey – where she had hidden after escaping from the CIA. And staying right on the money not long after she had reached the enormous bridge that connected the two states and pulling her car up on a parking spot nearby she got out of her car staring at the imposing structure in awe.

Trance- like she shuffled closer, ignoring the people and traffic around her, setting foot on the bridge. She had never seen in the beauty in running away – she had to complete her mission after all – but just this once she wished she could take a step onto that bridge and just keep walking, to never stop walking until she had reached a place where none of it could ever hurt ever again. Just this once she wanted to be weak and cowardly and miserable. She couldn't keep on carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, it was slowly starting to break her and if she broke… she would have nothing left to fight with against Sandstorm and she needed to stop her. It was the only thing keeping her going – her purpose.

So she didn't let herself be weak or cowardly but she did let herself be miserable, stopping in the middle of the bridge, leaning on the barrier and looked down on the river. She was so deeply inside her own mind and lost in her thoughts of despair, she didn't even hear someone coming closer to her, stopping next to her.

When she heard a voice she didn't know saying "Don't jump" almost exactly next to her, she –well, almost _jumped_.

She glared at the woman who looked to be in her late 40s with wrinkles that could make her way older and eyes that looked a lot wiser, but her hair – the bright red waves – gave away that she wasn't that old. "I wouldn't if you wouldn't startle me" she gave back, hoping her biting tone would make the woman move on.

But no such luck. If at all, she settled in next to her more comfortably, watching the tattooed woman who felt more uncomfortable by the second.

"You don't look like someone who's being startled easily."

"And still you did it. Congrats" she spat back, crossing her arms in front of her chest in a move of protecting herself.

"I'm sorry" her soft voice almost made Jane regret her outburst. "But I've seen a lot of people just like you – staring down on the river, deeply in thoughts – and I've seen too many of them jump in search of something more."

"I'm not looking for more" Jane whispered involuntarily, staring up at the other woman wide- eyed, in shock of the words that had just left her mouth.

"Then you're one of the people who looks for less. Who looks for an end. That's not better."

They stood in silence after that for a long time, both watching the river beneath them stream on and completely ignoring the sounds of traffic around them.

"It doesn't really end it, you know?" the red- haired woman said after a while and Jane cocked her head to one side, waiting for her to continue "It only relocates the pain to someone else who has to deal with it after you are gone."

Jane shook her head "I wouldn't jump. I'm not done yet" she said and looked back down on the river "But you're wrong, not everyone leaves someone behind to feel their pain. Some people wouldn't be missed."

"Everyone will be missed by someone."

"No" unrelenting Jane shook her head again, more forcefully this time, "Only people who are – who _were_ loved by someone would be missed. And no one loves me." She had added the last sentence so quietly that maybe the redhead didn't hear it…. Of course she had heard her, she should've realized by now that she was never this lucky.

Jane felt the other woman turn towards her without looking up. She didn't want to see the pity. But to her surprise – when she finally did look up – all she could see was understanding and sadness and … _hope_?

"The Lord loves all children equally" she said in that soothing voice of hers. The voice was so comforting that Jane almost didn't register the words that had been said. It took her a while to discern their meaning.

"There is no god" she replied simply, almost feeling sorry for the other woman but she only smiled back at her knowingly and didn't say anything. "How can there be a god?" Jane wanted to know hitting the handrail in frustration "If there was a god – how could he just stand by and watch everything go to waste? There's so much bad-" she broke off, swallowing back a sob and glaring at the woman accusingly as If she had made the world such an awful place.

"You're right, there is so much bad in this world. All of which was done by us, humankind. And still" she smiled a small sad smile "Still he loves us unconditionally. He's the only one that will _always_ love us unconditionally."

"No" Jane responded "As much as I'd like to think that there was someone capable of loving all this scum" Her for example. "But there isn't. Bad people are just that, bad and alone and they will never be loved."

"I've thought that, too, child" her tender smile now seemed to make her so much older and the wistful look in her eyes almost hurt Jane physically "And god gave you your free will to make up your mind about it yourself. But maybe – maybe you can think about it. It might help you to not feel so alone anymore. And it might keep you from seeking nothingness."

With that the redhead pushed herself away from the railing and onto the paseo again and – with a small wave of her hand – she was gone just has fast as she had appeared and left Jane to stare after her for a couple more minutes.

* * *

It was almost midnight when Jane let the key to her safe house drop onto the counter of her kitchen. She had spent most of the evening on the George Washington Bridge trying to clear her head and thoughts but had been only mildly successful. The red-haired woman's words didn't seem to leave her mind but kept tumbling back every time she tried to block them out.

 _The Lord loves all children equally. He's the only one that will always love us unconditionally._

She shook her head rapidly in an attempt to shoo the words away as she had tried to do all the way home but no such luck. They just sat there in the middle of her brain, staring at her, making her uncomfortable.

It made her angry.

How could anyone say that there was a god out there who had seen the worst of this world? How could there be anyone? Wasn't he supposed to protect them? From each other if he must? No, it didn't make sense. No one in their right mind could say there was a higher power up in heaven _loving_ them. That woman. She knew nothing of the world.

Jane scoffed out loud "The worst thing she has ever experienced was probably seeing her pet dog die" she muttered to herself wandering around her house pointlessly. But something told her that that wasn't true – that this woman had seen a lot more die than just her dog. The eyes.

Jane grabbed her sketchbook starting to sketch the eyes of the woman she had just met. They had looked so very old, so wise. They had seen so much. She started down on her drawing, imagining all the winkles that had framed them – none of them had been caused by extensive laughing, of that much she was sure.

She was almost certain that whatever had cause her wrinkles had also put out a lot of her fire – her hair being the last remnant of her old soul.

She closed her own eyes but she could still feel those old eyes stare up at her, even when she had closed the sketchbook and thrown it across the room to get out of her vicinity.

She should try to get some sleep, to forget about that woman and that bridge and her moment of misery, to get her strength back for the next day – undoubtedly another one that would require more from her than she had left to give. But she knew from experience that she wouldn't be able to fall asleep for at least another hour and if she did, she would wake up another hour later from the nightmares that had started haunting her.

Sighing she went around her couch to pick up the sketchbook, plopping down on the couch with it and trying to smooth out the creases. Looking down on the quickly scribbled eyes in her book she took her laptop from the coffee table and turned it on, surrendering to that old woman who had stolen her head.

Once the default background had popped up she clicked on the Internet symbol and waited. When the google starting site shone brightly at her, a stark contrast to the darkness of her room, she almost shut her laptop again but instead she managed to type " _God_ " into the search bar.

For the next hour she clicked her way through, what felt like, all websites there were on God. What confused her first was the fact that there wasn't simply one god. There seemed to be at least three who all wanted to be the one and then there were about a hundred other goddesses that didn't have much to do with what the other three were talking about.

She had concentrated on those three names first – God, Allah, Jahwe. To talk to them, to ask them question, apparently you had to go into their very own respected god houses. The church was one of them, for the Christian god, she shuddered at that – in her only memory of a church she had killed someone inside it. It was someone masquerading as a nun but still, she didn't think God would like her to return to his house very soon after that.

The mosque was the house of Allah. A part of their tradition seemed to be to clean themselves during their prayers but she knew for a fact that the blood on her hands wouldn't wash up just because she prayed and she wouldn't want to contaminate the rest of the good people cleaning themselves.

None of those places where a place for – well, _her_. And shouldn't she have known that? How could she step into either of those houses to ask a god she didn't even believe in whether he existed or not and if he did if it was possible for someone like her to be loved.

It was stupid. So so stupid.

Shutting down her laptop she put it back on the coffee table, grabbed the blanket that she kept on the couch, snuggled into it and tried to get some sleep. It would've been nice, she thought to herself while drifting off, to have someone actually love her.

* * *

Jane didn't think about Gods anymore for the next days, work was keeping her up all day every day. So much so, that she didn't even have time to feel miserable much less had time to think of an old woman talking about the Lord. The first time she could breathe again was on the day they had finally caught the guy who had kept his explosives in the fabric building they had discovered some 5 days ago.

As usually after a case or whenever she needed her quiet, to think and mourn her losses, she went to the headstone Roman and Shephard had shown her not too long ago. It was quickly becoming her safe haven, the place she felt most comfortable – almost peaceful – in.

This time when she sat down next to the stone she took a good look at her surroundings. The cemetery had been built next to a forest and through it she could almost hear the soft swoosh of a small stream that was not too far from where she sat right now. Something came to her mind. Something she had read the other day.

 _Nature is God's Temple._

Looking around her once more she sat back onto her heels staring at the tombstone. Well, where was the harm in it, she thought to herself. Bracing herself.

"Okay, let's try this" she started doubtful of her own sanity but she continued anyway "God, Jahwe, Allah. Whatever you wanna call yourself" she spoke to no one in particular, staring straight at the stone in front of her " _If_ you are out there. And if you love all your children like you say you do" she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat "How could you let this happen?" she wanted to know weakly, stroking the inscription gently.

She remembered enough of her time in the military to know how many good people had died and had only gotten this one stone. She forced back the tears, keeping her hand where it was "If you had any love for any of us, you wouldn't let us fight this war. You would help them. The good people. And if you were out there and if you loved us… You could forgive us –me" her voice broke "But if you're not out there… or if you're out there but can't forgive me… How can anyone else ever love me?"

Jane went quiet after that, half expecting a response to her accusing speech but – of course – everything stayed as quiet. Until she sensed a movement next to her. She already knew who it was without looking up.

The red- haired woman had taken a seat next to her, crossing her legs in front of her body, staring at Jane's hand on the headstone.

"Do you know where they have taken that from? The insignia?"

Jane shook her head, looking up at the other woman.

"Apparently an old Korean-veteran said it after being wounded and sent back to the front lines of the war. He got a purple heart. But also shrapnel in his legs. He fought another 4 months with his leg broken in two places" she told her "Makes you wonder who would let that happen, right?"

Jane simply nodded, sitting back on her heals again, watching the redhead.

"I've asked myself that so many times. I served in Iraq" she smiled but it didn't reach her old eyes "I was the only one of my unit to survive" she swallowed and Jane saw her eyes fill with tears now, but her cheeks stayed dry "Sometimes I feel like it's taken me more to come back than them to stay behind. But then I look at their families. God, they had families who missed them so much" she had closed her eyes now and following a sudden instinct Jane put her hand on the other woman's arm – just a quick touch but it made her lift the corners of her lips a little.

"And I realized then, that I was alive for a reason" she continued, looking at Jane intently now "I had to tell them what amazing people their husbands were. How they gave everything and how they died heroes. They needed to hear that and as hard as it was for me to tell them, it seemed to help them heal and so I did just that. I went to all their families" she blinked back the tears again "And then I went to that same bridge we met on. I was looking for the same nothingness you were." She admitted "But before I could follow through there was this loud noise behind me and- I had just gotten back from Iraq and even the smallest noise had me back in combat mode. So I turned around expecting some kind of danger but there wasn't any. It was just some bus driver greeting another bus driver. Isn't that ridiculous?"

Jane had to nod at that, wiping her own tears from her cheek now. "And _that_ made you believe in god?" she wanted to know, incredulously.

"Not quite" the other woman laughed "But it made me believe that someone out there still had a plan for me, that someone _cared_ enough to have a plan. That I wasn't finished yet. And I was right, I met you" she smiled "And whoever saves one life, it is written as if –"

"- he has saved all humanity" Jane finished, remembering having it read it the other day.

They had fallen quiet again, each of them thinking about redemption and about how anyone could love them when out of the blue Jane heard the soft soothing voice she had grown so accustomed to start singing.

 _"Your love reaches the heavens, fills the sky_

 _It's greater than heart and mind can grasp_

 _Your Love is amazing, God_

 _So high so vast_

 _It reaches even me"_

 _Maybe_ , Jane thought, _if there is a god out there – maybe they send Red to me. And if he cared enough to save me – maybe not all is lost. Maybe someone might love me after all._

 **A/N:** Song is from a Soul Survivor Festival I went to in England in 2011. It's called "Your Love Reaches"


End file.
